


Knitting the Sunset

by HathorAroha



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Fluff all the way down, Gen, Kid!Adam, Very Short one shot, WAFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 23:05:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13398180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HathorAroha/pseuds/HathorAroha
Summary: Short, sweet Batb fanfic in which a tiny Adam helps Mrs Potts with her knitting out in the palace garden during a gorgeous sunset.





	Knitting the Sunset

Walking through the garden soaked in yellow sunset, Adam soon came upon a very familiar woman–her auburn hair meant she could only be Mrs Potts–sitting on a garden bench, her brow furrowed as she concentrated on what looked to the boy like some knitting or other. So immersed in her work was she, she didn’t notice in the least when a tiny bird hopped upon on the armrest near her elbow, chirping in an impressive volume for its diminutive size, as if to get her attention. Nor did she seem to notice as Adam walked up to her bench, crunching through the rug of autumn leaves on the grass. 

The bird, perhaps alarmed at Adam’s unexpected appearance, gave a final piercing call and flitted up into the tree stretching high above them. Be it the bird’s flight or its cry of surprise, but one or the other seemed to draw Mrs Potts out of her knitting reverie. She lifted her head up, setting the knitting back in her lap, blinking at the sunset before her. 

“Mrs Potts?” 

Adam’s voice drew her attention to him, her face warming with a genuine smile that lit up her eyes. She patted the seat next to her, reaching out an inviting arm to Adam. 

“Good evening, Prince Adam, did you want to come join me?” 

The boy nodded, and Mrs Potts gestured with her hand for him to approach. When Adam managed to push himself up onto the seat, he snuggled up to the housekeeper, her arm wrapping around his shoulders, cocooning him in warmth and security. Adam couldn’t help a smile when she dropped a kiss on his head. 

“Sorry I didn’t hear you approaching,” Mrs Potts said, “I was concentrating very hard on my knitting.” 

Adam glanced down at the knitting resting on her lap, the wool as red as the deepening sunset, with little hints of yellow threaded in to give it some texture. 

“What are you making?” he asked, putting a hand forth to lift up the knitting for a closer look. He guessed it was some kind of shawl or cloak.

“A thick woollen shawl for a woman down in the village,” Mrs Potts said, “She’ll be very happy to have it.” 

“It’s very warm. Do you like knitting?” 

“Like it? I love it–my mother taught me to knit, and I haven’t stopped enjoying it since.” 

Adam gazed back over at the sunset, the sun’s disk already disappeared from the paling sky. 

“The sun’s gone to bed,” he observed, rewarded by a little laugh from Mrs Potts, clearly charmed by this observation. 

“Who told you that’s what happens?” 

“Plumette. She said the sun gets tired from shining all day and it needs to go to bed at the end of the day and that’s why it’s dark at night.” 

“A sensible reason for the sun to go down,” Mrs Potts said, her other arm coming around Adam in a closer cuddle, “I see no reason to suspect Plumette to be wrong. Did she tell you why the stars shine at night?” 

“To protect little boys when they go to sleep at night.” 

“What about girls?” 

“Girls too.” 

The little bird that had tried so hard to get Mrs Potts’ attention came flittering back down from the tree, landing without a noise on the carpet of autumn covering the earth. It chirped brightly, cocking its head this way and that, brown eyes catching a flash of dusk in their irises. Another chirp and it flew away into the gathering sunset. Bands of dark red clouds banded the horizon, and farther away, high in the sky, cirrus clouds were dyed the same pink colour as the macaroons Cuisinier was so fond of making as a treat for him. 

The sunset was the same shade of red as the knitting that rested on Mrs Potts’ lap. 

“Did you get inspired by the sunset?” 

“Hm?” 

“The shawl you’re making is red too.” 

“Well, I get inspired by a lot of things, but yes, it is the colour of the sunset too isn’t it?” 

“Is it hard to learn to knit?”

“A little bit, but all it takes is a little practice.” 

“Can boys knit too?” 

“Do you have fingers?” 

Adam looked down at his hands, wiggling said fingers. “Yes. Why?”

“Then you can knit too, Adam.” One of her arms let go of him, picking up her knitting and bringing it forward before the boy. “You can help me if you want before I have to get back in the kitchen.” 

“Really?” 

Mrs Potts took his hands in hers, placing the knitting needles against his palms. 

“Here, let me show you. First, you need to loop it through like this,” she instructed, guiding his hands through the motions, “And then do this to finish one loop.” 

Adam couldn’t help but smile broadly as she held his hands, continuing along the shawl, her voice full of encouragement and praise. 

“You’re doing wonderfully, Adam!” she complimented, “Soon you’ll be knitting better than I do!” 

A happy warmth at this praise spread through Adam’s heart. “I will?” 

“You’ll be able to teach the whole castle at this rate. Alright, let’s do one more row.” 

“It’s like we’re knitting the sunset,” Adam said as she guided his hands with hers, “It’s such a pretty red colour.” 

“Knitting the sunset,” Mrs Potts echoed, “That is such a lovely and creative thing to say.” 

“Really?” 

“Absolutely. Now let’s finish this row before it gets dark, shall we?” 

And so they sat there, the boy and his beloved housekeeper, knitting the sunset into the loops of red wool with the hints of yellow, as though capturing the very sky within the threads. 


End file.
